


If I knew why

by Bluespacechild



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Betrayal, Demon Hunters, Demons, Failed Relationships, Healthy Relationships, Hospitals, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Langst, M/M, Multi, PROTECT THEM, Polyamory, Polygamy, Possession, Psychic Abilities, Suicide Attempt, description of suicide, empath Hunk, failed suicide, half demon keith, haunted lance, hunk and lance are best bros, oh god they're so precious, psychic keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-10 09:17:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11688630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluespacechild/pseuds/Bluespacechild
Summary: Things in Lance's life often fall apart.He's known since he was little, that something was wrong with him on a mental level.As though something in his head was telling him to jump.If only he had found out early on. If only he had sought answers in places he hadn't thought to look...Things in Lance's life often fall apart, and he fears that one day soon, he will too.So he jumps before he has the chance to talk himself down.And he regrets it.





	1. If at first you don't succeed

**Author's Note:**

> eyyyyyyyy this is my first fanfiction, sorry its a bit morbid, I promise it gets better. and brighter. ;)

Lance had always felt off...

He was off in the way that he smiled, the way that he laughed, the way he dealt with grief.

since he was very young and small, there has always been something wrong.

Something pained and something bleeding at the back of his mind. _his stupid worthless mind_.

He's hated it.

It's hated him.

It's driven him to the brink.

 

It used to be manageable. He would hang out with his friends, eat junk food, go to parties, _anything_ to get his mind off it _._

Off the words whispered by his own brain to hurt himself, to say horrible things, to _do_ horrible things...

But now they weren't whispers.

they were pushes, and shoves.

staring at his knife a little too long while chopping vegetables, wondering if his walls would stain if he splashed them in red, realizing that if he were small enough, he could hang himself with the yarn loops on the scarf he was making for hunk, ending up as nothing more than a festering tassel at the end of the winter apparel. 

He had thrown the unfinished scarf under his bed after that, instead watching late night television which admittedly, would not help his already rotting mind.

 

Things weren't getting better like Hunk had said they would. No they were getting worse, so much worse. Every day added weight, weight that he had been loosing physically, was now piling on emotionally, and he'd never felt heavier.

 Nyma had tipped his carefully balanced emotional state, and things had spiraled from there.

It was like torture. He felt something feasting on his misery, gulping down his cherished memories and spitting them out, as something dirty. Something grimy and contaminated.

But oh he'd forgotten hadn't he? _how could someone ever feel that way about you?_

He was delusional to ever think that he could have something _something_ that didn't come back to bite him in the butt.

Really he'd done this to himself.

" _If only my heavy emotions constituted for real world weight"_ Lance thought desperately, as he dangled, struggling and flailing, his body unable to stop itself as he fought for breath, and kicked the air. You tended not to weigh too much when you skipped meals all the time.

" _if only i'd worn something heavy! I knew I was forgetting something!"_ He tired desperately to reach out for his chair with the toe of his foot, his hand clawing the rope around his neck. If he could just pull it back up with his foot, he could stand, untie himself, get some weights, and try again.

" _I'll get it right next time!_ ", he promised.

" _please don't make me dangle here for god knows how long!"_ He pleaded.

He had chosen hanging because jumping out of a window would be too messy.

Bleeding out, or overdosing would take too long and would possibly be... painful.

He was a busy man with things to do.

He thought his height would accommodate for his lack of body mass.

God was he regretting not just jumping to his death now.

Or maybe not, you know, knocking the chair over, and just jumping off of it in case something like _this_ happened.

But Lance was stupid, and rushed because he didn't want to change his mind.

It wasn't like he wanted to leave everyone behind.

He just didn't want to feel this way anymore and what better way not to feel than to not have nerve receptors or confusing off balance hormones?

Or pills that made things worse, or shadows in the corners of his room to keep him up at night, or people to let down after they let his cold lifeless body down?

This was supposed to be _easy_. Or at least that's what the voice had said.

_"It would be so easy Lance. I know you can do it. go ahead, do it, do it, do it."_

He wasn't sure if he was schizophrenic or if that was his conscious or whatever. He knew he was depressed, but the pills didn't work. he didn't have time or money for a therapist, and Pidge had even stated multiple times that their job was to make you feel worse so that you kept coming back. He thought the whole thing was pointless.

_Sticking around was pointless_

After a bit he stopped flailing and squirming, his limbs tingling as his arms slipped slowly to his sides.

He tried thinking back on how long it took for the human brain to die when blood flow was cut off, but his efforts were fruitless.

How long did it take to slip into unconsciousness...

 

 

                         X

 

Hunk made his way up the stairs two at a time, smiling brightly, and struggling with the load of trashy foods he held in his arms.

He had noticed Lance was looking a little down lately. That wouldn't do. His best friend was not going to be depressed on his watch! Something inside him urged him to go faster, to get into that damn door as fast as he could. He called that feeling the friendship radar. It pinpointed seemingly exactly when and where Hunk needed to be to help someone. He got it a lot when Lance was sad, when he hid behind jokes and laughter. But not tonight! No sir-ee he was going in there and getting that blue boy a nice warm blanket, and making sure he ate something. He thanked the stars he had a key to Lance's place. It made surprising him easy, and he knew Lance loved surprises. Especially in the form of sleepovers, hugs, and a mountain of junk food.

The junk food mountain especially as fate would have it. He balanced said food into one arm as he slid the key into the lock, and pushed the door open. "SURPRISE! LANCE GUESS WHO'S THE BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE-"

Hunk dropped the food before he could say anything more.

He dropped it, and stepped on a box of snack cakes in his rush, not caring in the slightest, taking no time to asses the situation further as he quickly found himself under his lanky friend, Lance's limp form piggy backing on his shoulders, as his height gave the rope all the slack he would need. His eyes watered uncontrollably as he forced himself to not think about the most probable state his friend was in. His shaky hands found their way to the expertly tied knot and struggled to loosen it.

He couldn't find it in himself to think of Lance not waking up.

Not now.

First he had to get Lance down...

He wouldn't let anyone see him this way.

He couldn't.

_Not ever._

Lance wouldn't have wanted that, he cared about his looks a lot.

He wouldn't have wanted all eyes on him while he dangled, pale skin and swollen tongue. 

He wouldn't have...

Hunk got the knot untied and sank to the floor as he carefully pulled Lance off his back and into his arms.

Even though Lance was the one who had hung himself, Hunk was the one who couldn't breath. It was like he was sharing Lance's pain, as he cradled the body in his arms and called 911, hysterically crying into the receiver the events that had conspired on this fateful night, the address, the way his skin was still warm, asking how he could help, anything to keep his mind off the supposedly dead body in his arms.

He wouldn't believe it even if they told him.

Even if he told himself.

Even if he saw it on the news, or Pidge slapped him and started naming off percentages and probabilities, or his parents consoled him and tried to hug him better...

He wouldn't believe it because it wasn't true.

And he had proof.

He had proof in the way that Lance's breathing came in small labored gasps.

He had the proof and he was shouting it into the phone, still crying and sobbing, a small relieved smile on his face.

"Lance when you wake up I'm making you so much fucking food just you wait."

And wait he did.

 

X

 

Lance woke up in the hospital the next day, a doctor smiling softly at him.

"Hello there Mr. Mclain, it's good to see you up, how are you feeling?"

Lance took the man in, a shock of white hair, a scar on the bridge of his nose, stormy grey eyes...

He squinted suspiciously at the attractive man. He looked other worldly. 

"Are you an angel?"

Shit.

He blushed and realized his error quickly.

"i mean is this heaven or? Or no wait-"

NO.

"...Am I dead?"

There we go. It took a while to get there, but we got there eventually.

The man smiled sadly, and sat in the chair by his bed.

"No mister Mclain, you are very much alive, and your friends are very worried about you. They should be back soon-"

Hunk.

Pidge.

Suddenly Lance was feeling guilty. Guiltier than he had ever felt.

How could he have done this to them?

He swallowed thickly, not hearing the rest of what the doctor said.

How could he make this up to them?

He felt useless. He didn't want to face them. He didn't want them to see him in such a pathetic state.

He was crying now, as he touched the dully sore spot on his neck.

The doctor cut off mid sentence and sat down on the edge of his bed. Hesitantly he reached forward and took the hand Lance was clutching his throat with away, leaving the ugly "V" shaped mark for all to see.

The doctor smiled reassuringly at him "It's okay. You're going to be okay, we'll help you" He whispered quietly, gently running a thumb over Lance's hand.

"I need to ask you a few questions Mr.Mclain, is that okay?"

Lance nodded dumbly as he calmed down, his tears ceasing but his cheeks still red and puffy.

"i have come to understand you have depression Mr.Mclain. Have you been taking your prescription? You're not in trouble if you forgot to, but skipping a dose can lead to a hormonal imbalance-"

"Lance"

The doctors eyes widened "hm?"

"Please stop calling me Mr. Mclain. Just call me Lance."

 

X

 

They stayed that way, talking about his many failed prescriptions, and failed attempts at being a functional human being.

Apparently Lance was lucky he didn't have heart or brain complications now. Apparently that was common in failed hanging attempts. 

God what a bite in the ass  _that_ would have been.

The doctor was a kind man who he figured out was named "Shiro" a nice name for a nice person.

He inquired as to why Lance had felt he needed to die.... Well he said it more eloquently than that but whatever.

Lance politely refused the question.

Though it was a valid question for a doctor, it still felt invasive and rude.

He changed the topic to his friends.

"so... when is Hunk supposed to be back?"

Shiro smiled that calming smile of his again, and Lance felt relieved almost instantly as a hand was put on his shoulder.

"I promise they'll be back soon. I'll stay with you until then okay?"

Lance smiled hesitantly back, before a thought occurred.  

"Shouldn't you be tending to other patients? It's alright to leave me you know I understand If you're busy."

Shiro smiled a bit wider at that.

"oh, no I couldn't do that. It's only a little while longer anyway."

"it's been like almost an hour."

"Only 35 minutes Lance, that hardly constitutes as almost an hour."

"half an hour is still a pretty long time to spend talking with some mentally disturbed patient, when you have others to tend to."

"I don't have any other patients Lance."

"What?"

"I'm here to help you."

The doctor reached out and took his hand.

"um..."

"But i'm afraid your friends are here, and we'll have to cut this little chat of ours short."

"They are? How do you know? What do you mean?"

"I'll contact you again, I promise. But for now, I'd like you to wake up for me. Can you do that Lance?"

Lance felt fuzzy all of a sudden, and the light from the window behind Shiro was increasing in intensity, blurring his form and making him almost undistinguishable, his face heavily shadowed.

"I knew it! I am dead aren't I? You _are_ an angel!"

The light grew so bright that it was all that he could see, the only things left of Shiro were the hand clasping his, and a small chuckle that echoed all around him.

_"Hardly"_

 

 

 

 


	2. It felt so real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wakes up and finds his friends waiting there for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you Lance I'm sorry.

Lance didn't remember opening his eyes, but as the bright light cleared, and adjusted so that he could make sense of the world around him, he realized he must have at some point.

He was staring up at a cruelly bright hospital ceiling light.  

He blinked a few times and contemplated his weird dream, half expecting Shiro to ask him if he was alright. The light must have been just him opening his eyes as he came back to reality.

Weird.

But he could still feel a hand on his...

"Lance!"

That explains it.

He lifted his head up at the sound of Hunk's voice, only to find it was Pidge who clung to his fingers so desperately, tears in her eyes.

Lance self consciously looked away and held his throat, guilt weighing down his mind.

He didn't want her of all people to see him this way.

She stared at him a moment longer before leaping into him, and hugging him around the middle.

Hunk was not far behind, although he waited until Pidge had unlatched herself, from Lance, wiping her tears with her sleeve, before offering a ginger hug of his own and a small happy smile, to which Lance was exceedingly grateful for.

_"Guys..."_

His voice was raw and it cracked as tears threatened to make their way out of him.

"I'm so sorry... I don't know what got into me..."

Pidge was holding his hand again, and he squeezed it.

Hunk sat down on the bed on his other side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Depression got into you, that's what" Pidge said in a serious tone.

That made Lance laugh.

"It suuuuure did" he said as he let his head fall back against the pillow.

"Lance, buddy it's okay, it's not your fault" Hunk said soothingly, rubbing his shoulder.

Lance smiled at him.

"Hunk..." He couldn't stop the tears that fell from his eyes.

"shhhhhhh, hey now it'll be okay. Everything's okay now, alright? We're here."

"We'll always be here" Pidge concluded.

"Promise?"

"We promise" Hunk said, still smiling.

 

X

 

They talked after that.

Lance described his night and the moments that lead up to his failed suicide attempt.

His friends listened, and never chastised him for anything he said, only butting in to correct him when he said something self deprecating, and ensuring him that they loved and cared for him.

He told them about the girl he'd been crushing on for about a year, how he'd given her a key to his apartment after she came into the coffee shop he worked at with a black eye, claiming her boyfriend was hitting her.

He told them how he had just wanted her to have somewhere to _go_ if shit hit the fan.

He admitted it was stupid to trust her just like that, but hey what can you do? She had robbed him that very week. _With_ her boyfriend mind you. And he'd later found out from a mutual friend that those bruises on her face weren't even from him. They were from a bar fight with another girl who was _eyeing_ her boyfriend.

Get it? Eye?

Whatever.

Lance might have been able to live with himself if it was just his gaming consoles, and TV that had been hijacked, but no.

His cat, Blue, had either gotten out through the door the two robbers had left open, or Nyma had taken her.

But I mean come on what kind of messed person steals a cat?

He sighed.

Nyma was the kind of messed up person who steals a cat.

She had left a note apologizing about it too, saying she was so, _so_ sorry, but that he was just such an easy target.

He also learned that apparently blue, in all her beauty, was a rare breed of feline that was worth a shit ton to breeders.

He filed a police report shortly after, and they had swung by his place to collect evidence and statements from the neighbors. After they had all cleared out it was dark, and he had just been sitting there in his living room, with his mother's now broken vase in the trash, and a family picture with the glass shattered in the frame, and he'd thought the most brilliant thought anyone had ever thought:

_"Now's a good a time as any"_

And so he put his broken family (both metaphorically and now so very literally), down on the table neatly, and collected what he needed to get the job done.

When he finished his retelling, his friends offered words of support, words of comfort, and words of vengeance against Nyma.

"I'll find her Lance." Pidge had chirped. "don't think for a second that I won't."

He knew she meant it.

They all ended up laughing at this, unable to stop the giggling until a few minutes later when a comfortable silence filled the air.

Then as if Hunk had only just remembered, his face fell, and his brow furrowed, a small frown etched on his lips.

"When I saw you, I was so scared Lance. I... I thought I had lost you, you're my best friend... I ran to you without even thinking...."

Lance's blood ran cold as the realization hit him. Hunk had been the one to find him. To get him down.

Of course, how could he be so stupid.

Someone had to find him. He wasn't going to dangle there forever, and who else would it have been?

No one else but Nyma had a key to his apartment.

It had to have been Hunk.

His eyes welled up with tears again. "Hunk.... I'm so sorry, I never even thought about..."

Hunk cut him off, raising a hand to indicate silence, a stern expression on his soft features.

"I ran to you without even thinking Lance...So..." He sounded tentative saying his next words. "I want you to do the same with me...forever. Any time you feel like something's off.... okay?"

Lance felt shocked and honored by such a request.

Did such an amazing person truly exist?

They had to if Hunk was real.

...Was Hunk real?

"Hunk, buddy, pal.... you'd tell me if I was dead right? You're not an angel or something right?"

Hunk's eyes widened, confused, before he shared a poker faced glance with Pidge.

"Of coooooooourse Lance.... I'd never hide something like that from you." He said turning his attention back with a mischievous glint.

"Hunk..." Lance said worriedly.

"It's not like Pidge is actually God or something that would be crazy.... Not like she _knows_ _everything_ or anything like that...."

"HUNK" Lance said with alarm in his voice. Oh god it all made sense now. Why Pidge was so smart, had all the answers, was great at _making things_.

It all fit perfectly into place, and Hunk was just sitting there _smirking_.

He changed his mind.

Hunk was no angel.

His friends both laughed at that.

"But come on seriously can you imagine if _I_ was god?" Pidge chimed in. "The world would be so much greater."

"Are you kidding me?" Lance asked.

"You would destroy the place" Hunk put simply.

"Hey! I'll have you know a world without trees or peanuts would be great!"

Lance scoffed "Then there would be no air or peanut butter!"

"Actually, there would still be air, our oxygen would just deplete too rapidly without being replenished. There wouldn't however be any damn cedar trees to kill my allergies every year... Also there would still be peanut butter."

"oh yeah? How?"

She pushed her glasses up "Because I'm god and I say so that's how"

He laughed.

No oxygen.

That reminded him.

"Hey Pidge?"

"Yeah?"

"Do I have heart failure or brain damage now?"

She opened her mouth, but Hunk chimed in. "What? Why, do you feel okay?!?"

Lance laughed "yeah I'm fine.... I just had a really weird dream is all."

Pidge spoke before Hunk could continue. "To answer your question, yes. You've always had brain damage."

"Pidge!" Hunk squealed. "Now is _not_ the time for that."

Pidge rolled her eyes, and turned her attention back to the now smirking Lance.

"No Lance you don't have brain damage or heart failure." She drawled out in a mocking tone, ignoring the way Hunk's mouth gaped at such blatant sass.

Lance nodded thoughtfully. "well that's good."

"It is indeed good" She confirmed.

Hunk shook himself out of his stupor.

"Wait I'm curious now" He stated. "what was your dream about?"

And so Lance retold his strange dream, to his curious friends.

Anything to put his mind off of why they were all here in the first place.

 

X

 

It had been a long while since Shiro had possessed someone or manipulated a dream. They never found many leads, and the ones they did find were hard and draining to get to mentally.

But this had been a special occasion.

For a very special person of interest.

Or persons of interest.

Whatever way you looked at it.

As he groggily came back to his body and opened his eyes, Keith was on him immediately.

"Did you find him? He's not dead is he?"

Shiro laughed weakly, overwhelmed. "No Keith. He's not dead."

Keith sighed to himself, relief washing onto his face as he let his eyes sink shut.

"Good. We would have had to start all over."

Shiro gave him a stern look, and Keith withered slightly, blushing.

"A-and an innocent would be dead which is the main priority...."

Shiro nodded sagely and laid down, feeling tired and drained even if the connection was easier to grasp than most. "Good."

"So.... what did he say? Did you find out anything useful? Like where he is?"

Shiro grimaced.

"Kind of?"

"...kind of?" Keith parroted.

"Well, he's in a hospital... He tried to hang himself."

Keith was silent for a little bit before he eloquently spoke his next, carefully picked words.

"That sucks."

"Yeah."

Nailed it.

"Which hospital?"

"I don't know"

"What do you mean you don't know?! You didn't ask him?!"

"Well he was still unconscious Keith it's not like he knew anyways. Plus I made myself look like a doctor, so he wouldn't freak out on me, what kind of doctor doesn't know the name of the hospital they work at? It would have been a highly suspicious question. "

Keith groaned.

"I had a clip board and everything."

Keith groaned louder.

"So let me get this straight. You tricked him into telling you shit by posing as a health professional, didn't get his current location even though he's clearly in trouble, And _didn't even tell him who you were._ "

Shiro averted his gaze. "I thought he needed more of a gentler approach at the moment Keith."

"Fuck gentle Shiro, this is a demon we're talking about."

"Look I was going to tell him... but he started crying before I could even introduce myself. I couldn't just go off on a tirade about how we're magic demon hunters there to kill the demon that made him try to kill himself. He could have rejected me, pushed me out of his mind and locked me out, and _then_ where would we be?"

Keith swallowed, seeming to cool off a bit.

"You could have told him _something_ at least _._ You know, a real life location he should visit to feel better, a coffee shop with great coffee, something to let him at least _wonder_ if the sexy doctor in his dream might not have been a dream."

Shiro thought for a moment before speaking. "He knows my face. When we see him in person he'll recognize me, won't he? Not a lot of people can exactly match my description."

Keith nodded. "... are you sure he'll remember the dream with all the commotion of you know, being in the hospital after actively trying to take his own life?"

Shiro winced. "I'll try again. Next time I'll tell him something he won't be able to write off as a coincidence."

Keith sighed. "You'd better. Or I'm going in next time."

Shiro paled.

For Lance's sake, he did _not_ want that.

"So... what's the lucky guy's name?"

Shiro smiled softly, recalling the boy in the hospital bed. 

"Lance. Lance Mclain."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. It tells me things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nerds in their natural habitat, and thoughts you can never take back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this chapter two days ago but I've been babysitting and catsitting, so I forgot to finish the last fricken paragraph and just now finished it.

The next few weeks were a blur of calming words, new prescriptions, returning to work, getting a therapist, and staying over at Hunk's place for a large amount of time.

It took Lance a while, but he got back in the rhythm of things. He breathed in deep every morning, and made sure his first thoughts were of his two closest friends.

_Hunk._

_Pidge._

_Remember why you're breathing Lance._  

It was easier for him to get up after that.

To get a bowl of cereal, maybe some toast.

He'd like to say he was wrong about therapists, and that his had been the one to teach him these calming techniques.

But unfortunately, she wasn't. Hunk and Pidge, the resident geniuses had.

She was nice though, and a good listener for things he didn't want to trouble his friends about.

Maybe that was all he needed? Someone to talk to who he wouldn't see in day to day life?

The thought of his therapist showing up at his place of work wormed it's way into his skull. The image of her knowing eyes falling on him, then shifting to his coworkers...

Her introducing herself, casually and slyly to his friends, white hair sliding down her shoulders like an ethereal waterfall, all his secrets balanced carefully behind her upturned, smirking lips ready to cascade out, to be revealed-

_"She'd tell them everything if you spoke one word Lance. She'd tell them aaaaaaaaaaaaaaall about me."_

Lance shook his head and started humming loudly to drown it out.

The humming wasn't loud enough at first but as he started the dishes, leaving the faucet on full force, it was enough to make the thoughts go away.

Hunk stopped by after that. They sat on the couch and watched some weird crime drama on his new TV.

Something about a murderer with schizophrenia.

He shuddered and changed the channel.

"Hey! I was watching that!" Hunk cried indigently.

Lance laughed "It was boring anyway and you know it!"

Hunk shrugged "Not boring just terrible acting."

The lankier of the two rolled his eyes and flopped back further into the couch. "Everything is badly acted out to you Hunk."

Hunk smirked at that. "I'm good at reading people, it's okay." He held his hands up. "I don't mind if you're jealous, I would be too if I were you"

Lance laughed, and shoved him slightly "Oh shut up, I know it ruins like, every movie for you. What else is on?"

The doorbell rang, and Lance tossed Hunk the remote, which he fumbled with, almost dropping it on the ground.

He gave Lance an unamused pout as said boy bolted over to the door and let Pidge in.

"Ah! Pidgeon my good friend come in, come in. Take a seat and watch some terrible TV with us."

She smirked as he side stepped to let her through, before slamming the door shut behind her, causing her to jump.

"Jesus Christ Lance!"

He laughed at that. "What? Did I ruffle your feathers pidgy?"

She stared daggers at him. "Your neighbors probably hate you _and_ your dumb ass door."

Lance shrugged, smirk still prominent "probably"

The small girl glowered before grumbling and trudging off to the couch, climbing over the arm rest unnecessarily to get to her seat next to Hunk.

Hunk squinted at her. "It is like three steps more, you didn't have to climb over."

They'd had this conversation before.

Only their arguing could be heard as Lance walked off to the kitchen, and read the instructions to his microwavable popcorn.

He was pretty sure he knew the right amount of time, but he couldn't help but second guess himself.

_"knowing you, you've probably remembered it wrong"_

It didn't help that, as fate would have it, he actually _had_ remembered it wrong.

_"see?"_

A small frown etched onto his face as he stuffed the thin bag into the microwave and entered the correct time.

He was only off by a few minutes but it still stung.

Almost as bad as the popcorn bag he so stupidly picked up as soon as the timer went off.

He thought the corner of the bag would be safe!

Oh how wrong he was.

He dropped the bag on the floor with a curse,  betrayal panging his heart as he mourned the sanctity of his now, floor germ ridden, buttery confection.

Oh well, they'd all still happily eat it. Germs or no germs.

Pidge laughed and sauntered into the kitchen, and Hunk asked in his quiet concerned voice. "You okay bud?" As he peeked over the couch cushions to look at him.

Lance put the burned finger in his mouth. "yeah"

The smaller of the three grimaced "Did you even wash your hands before sticking a finger in your mouth?"

"Yeah you don't know where that's been" Hunk chortled.

He pulled the finger out of his mouth and sent a devilish smirk to Hunk, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Hunk regretted his teasing immediately thereafter.

"I'm sorry, please don't say anything."

He thought about saying only the word "anything" and nothing more, but left the dad joke to die as it should have a long time ago.

"Oh Hunk. Dear, dear, sweet Hunk. How am I supposed to not say anything about such a _wonderful_ set up?"

Hunk ducked down behind the couch back and out of sight, his voice pained. "Lance no." He heard the softly uttered words, but they carried little resistance.

Hunk knew he couldn't stop this.

No one could stop this now.

"where _indeed_ have my hands been lately?"

"No" pidge said in a warning tone.

"I know you're all dying to know."

"This is stupid" She said, turning a bit red at the implications Lance was making.

"Why my dear friends, I'm happy to inform you that they've been _buried deep_ -"

She covered her face, and Hunk pleaded for forgiveness.

"Inside my _hot, wet, moist-"_

He sucked his finger, and pulled it out of his mouth with a loud, satisfying "pop"

"mouth" He deadpanned.

There was silence before they both groaned loudly, as Lance picked the bag up again, this time with a napkin, and a proud, shit eating grin.

Oh come on there are just so many good dad jokes. He had to use one eventually.

Pidge pretended to die in a dining room chair, groaning for a prolonged period of time, and Hunk laid down on the couch, stating that his ears could never un-hear such atrocious words.

Lance smirked.

"You guys are a couple of babies."

 

X

 

" _Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuys...."_ Lance whined. " _This is so boring"_ Hunk patted his shoulder, and laughed "Chill, it's almost over"

"You said that thirty minutes ago! when I said terrible tv I didn't mean _this._ This is borderline torture!"

Contrary to popular belief the science channel, although colorful and flashy at times, could _not_ keep his attention.

Pidge and Hunk on the other hand were engrossed in their sciencey shit. Some weird show called "If they disappeared one day"

" _Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase"_ He whined loudly.

Pidge rolled her eyes, and glanced over at him.

"So we're the babies huh?", recalling in perfect detail, his cocky smirk as his terrible joke settled in, and his insinuation that _they_ were the immature ones.

This was to be his ever so cruel punishment.

Lance gave her puppy dog eyes.

She sighed and changed the channel to some random country themed, crime drama, and Lance hugged her. "Thank you Pidgey!"

Hunk gaped openly at her. " _Pidge_! I was watching that still, I wanted to know how it was going to end! You were supposed to stay strong this time and tough out the puppy eyes with me!"

She offered him an apologetic smile accompanied with a shrug.

Lance glanced over at him "Oh come on Hunk, you didn't need to see the rest. You and I both know the ecological effects of the entirety of deer population going missing overnight."

Hunk gave him an unamused look. "What will happen then?"

"The grass in your mom's yard would be slightly taller, duh."

That got a laugh out of him.

"And they'd stop eating my flower garden.... _Wait._ Guys maybe the deer are our natural enemy?!"

All three giggled at that, content in one another's company, as they threw bad jokes, and deer themed banter about between them.

It had gotten late, and Pidge stood up after a few minutes of city girl TV fun time. "Well, as much as I'd like to see whether or not Charlotte the country girl fits in at the local Mafia head courters, I should start heading home."

Her friends got up with her, pausing their show to continue after she had fled from their bad TV marathon.

They walked her out of the apartment door, but she stopped them at the stairs on the landing, claiming her brother Matt was on his way to pick her up, and she'd be okay walking a few steps by herself.

They backed off, waving their goodbyes as Pidge pulled out her phone, tapping away.

It was sudden, and involuntary.

Lance's vision blurred around the edges.

He found himself unable to think clearly, as white noise filled his ears.

 _"It would be easy Lance. Just one. good. shove."_ Lance paled and felt like he was going to be sick any minute.

As his vision returned to normal, he blinked, watching Pidge descend the stairs slowly, looking down at her phone, unaware of her surroundings.

Unaware of danger. Of _him._

He knew what that horrible voice in his head had implied.

It wanted him to hurt Pidge. No...

It wanted her neck bent awkwardly and blood staining the steps.

It wanted her dead.

 

X

 

Hunk could feel the shift in Lance's emotions as they walked back to the door.

His friend seemed a lot more panicked and scared than he had been previously.

He stepped closer, and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

Lance nodded shakily. "I think my meds are messing with me, i'm not feeling too hot."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth.

How do you tell your best friend that you just thought about killing your other best friend?

Pushing them down the stairs, and leaving them, broken necked and unable to call for help... He gulped heavily, throat dry.

Hunk could always seem to tell when Lance felt off, and now was no different.

Guilty was the emotion he was picking up on from the skinny Cuban boy.

What he was guilty of was beyond him, but he felt pushing the issue would hurt Lance, so he decided not to prod further.

He'd tell him what was wrong when he was ready. Until then-

"Let's go see what Charlotte does as an official mafiosa, okay?" 

Lance laughed a bit, an edge to his voice, as he let his thoughts wander away from whatever... well, whateverthat was.

 

 

X

 

 

Him and Hunk binged the last season of "Boots and Fedoras" until Hunk fell asleep, snoring softly with his head lolled to the side, mouth slightly opened.

When Lance was sure his friend was out for the count, he settled a blanket over him, turned the TV off, and headed back to his room.

He hoped desperately he would dream about him again.

Shiro.

He wanted to get his mind off his new predicament, but... he also wanted to tell someone. What better person to tell than someone who isn't exactly real? Someone who could never spill the beans and get him sent to a mental asylum?

For some reason, his head felt clear talking to him, like all evil thoughts were banished from the space next to him.

Maybe the fucked up parts of his brain ceased functioning when he fell asleep?

He never could remember his dreams very well, as a child.

He just always woke up panicked, or sweaty and gross, so he could assume he had dreamed of  _something_ at the very least.

But lately... as it would turn out...

Dreams with Shiro were different.

He had dreamed of him every three to five days, and he remembered those dreams in clear detail.

He wasn't a doctor anymore, as far as Lance could tell, but he remained gentle, comforting, and sweet.

However, he had come to find out that he could only touch Shiro's right arm in the dreams. It was a strange detail Pidge often scrutinized as his subconscious being untouchable until it reached out for help first.

Lance had his own personal theory.

To him it was his brain telling him that he didn't deserve a relationship, and that the hand of friendship was the only acceptable approach for someone like him, no matter how badly he wanted something more. It didn't help that every dream had been in his bedroom. So tempting, and yet so unobtainable.

Shiro represented anyone he could possibly want something more than friendship with, but alas he could offer only a hand, to pat his shoulder, ruffle his hair, playfully shove when faced with a particularly bad joke.

He didn't deserve anything more than that.

When he first realized he could pass straight through Shiro, he had asked many questions, curious as he let his hand pass through Shiro's chest.

"Can you feel that?"

"Does it tickle?"

"Do you want me to stop?"

all of which Shiro answered, amused at Lance's curiosity.

"Yes"

"A little bit"

"No"

And then Lance asked the wrong question, as he tended to do.

"Why only your arm? Why not the rest of you?"

Shiro's look had shifted as though he'd tasted something sour, clenching his right fist, and Lance had quickly backtracked, saying how he didn't have to answer, and that it was cool that he was "part ghost or whatever".

That had gotten Shiro to smile again at least, as he chuckled in amusement and shook his head, but still something dark lingered in his eyes.

Just you're average, every day, figment of your imagination, with a troubled and mysterious backstory, coming to comfort him in his time of need.

Yeah. Something like that.

He'd been writing these dreams down at the request of Pidge and his therapist. Every new development seemed to spark a new crazy theory. From Shiro's patch of white hair being his apparent fear of losing his youth, the scars on his body and face, perhaps representing his injured subconscious accepting, and healing its old wounds at last. He omitted certain details for some sense of privacy of course, but was mostly truthful. His therapist had told him he needed to be for her to help him.

Apparently the dreams had some deeper meaning he wasn't aware of or something, as everyone seemed to think. He himself saw things that they could mean or represent, but didn't really care to over analyze too much. He just wanted to enjoy them while they lasted.

Pidge theorizes that Shiro's dad jokes, and comforting and supportive demeanor, are his mind's representative of a missing father figure, that he so craved as a child.

He said that, that would be weird considering he thought Shiro was hot.

She told him maybe he represented his daddy kink instead, to which Hunk blanched.

Lance agreed that was pretty plausible, with a chuckle of his own and an agonized sound from Hunk somewhere behind him. 

His therapist however believed that it was his mind coming to terms with the thought that he couldn't do this alone, although she did find humor in the daddy kink theory.

She said that his mind most likely created Shiro as a defense mechanism to protect itself, and give him someone to talk to about things he couldn't talk about to anyone else.

She advised him that Shiro was most likely not harmful, and probably helpful for the time being, but that he should not get too attached, as he might not last forever.

She said to think of him as a second therapist for when she couldn't be there, and even told him to tell Shiro she says hello.

That's one thing he loved about Allura.

He and her would talk about Shiro as though he were a friend in the real world, and not just some strange dreamscape entity.

It made him feel less crazy.

More at ease in her company.

_"She does it to get to you. To get you to tell her every incriminating detail."_

He pushed the thought away. He really needed this voice out of him. He wanted it gone.

But how would he get it out? Meds? Therapy? Leaving the faucet running forever? banging pots and pans together none stop for all eternity?-

_"one quick stab to the temple?"_

He felt cold, unable to determine if it had been him, or the voice that had thought that last one.

And as he drifted off to sleep, that one, dreadful realization, scared him more than anything.

 


	4. Bad dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro gets ready to introduce keith and lance, but someone else wants to occupy Lance's dreams tonight. Hunk just doesn't want to sleep alone in Lance's creepy apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took haven't uploaded in a while. have a thing while I disappear again.

Shiro smiled softly as Keith stumbled out of their bedroom and pressed snuggly to his side, hungrily eyeing the pancake he was making. He flipped it as high as he could with Keith pressed against him, showing off as he caught it with the pan again.

He could have sworn he saw drool slip down from Keith's mouth, as his sleepy eyes followed the movement.

Demon's had one _hell_ of an appetite after all.

Ha.

Shiro smiled to himself as he side eyed his boyfriend, internalizing the joke that surely would have earned him a glare and maybe a punch to the arm.

Lance would have appreciated it, but Keith....

Keith did not enjoy puns.

And even though he would argue otherwise, it was probably because he did not understand most jokes, or why he was supposed to laugh at them.

Shiro smiled a bit wider. It was endearing really. Shiro would sit him down and explain why a joke was supposed to be funny. His face would be completely neutral, other than the slight furrow of his brow, showing how truly confused he was. He would nod after the explanation, and say something like "yeah... I get it" even though the concept had obviously flown straight over his head.

Shiro motioned for a plate and Keith quickly got one for him as he slid the pancake onto it. Keith immediately picked it up and began nibbling the edges, not even giving it a second to cool, an action that would have cause worry at the start of their relationship, as Shiro would have been freaking out about him burning his fingers.

But Shiro knew better now.

It would take a lot more than a hot pancake to burn his half demon boyfriend.

Half demon.

Shiro looked him over.

He really didn't _look_ half demon.

Dark, slightly long, silky hair, no scales or abnormal patches of fur on his light skin. No horns, or hooves, or tails...

The only thing slightly abnormal were his purplish eyes.

People often commented on them, but even if someone noticed, they were just so easily dismissed as a genetic abnormality that they really posed no threat to Keith being outed at all.

Yes... he really looked nothing like a demon to Shiro...

like no demon _he'd_ ever seen at least.

Keith looked up at him about to take another bite, but pulled the pancake away from his mouth in confusion.

Shiro snapped out of his thoughts, and realized he had been staring.

He turned his attention back to his pancake, and quickly flipped it, realizing to his dismay he had burned it slightly.

Keith leaned over slightly to get a better look at his face.

"You almost never burn anything.... are you okay?"

Shiro nodded.

He felt a little light headed.

"yeah, just dizzy."

Keith's brow furrowed.

"Did you contact Lance last night? I thought you said we were going together tonight so I could meet the doofus... Do you need to lay down?"

Shiro shook his head at his concerned boyfriend. "No I didn't, I just... I was just thinking."

Keith knew what that meant. That stutter in his voice. That tired look in his eyes...

It meant Shiro was thinking about his time in captivity.

His time in the gladiator rings.

He placed a reassuring hand on Shiro's back and rubbed it soothingly, as he continued to eat his pancake in silence, and Shiro kept cooking, trying to regain a sense of normalcy.

After he finished the last pancake Shiro turned off the stove, and they made their way to the table, sitting in a comfortable silence.

Shiro smiled at him, with tired eyes after a few minutes of quietly sitting together.

"Thank you for being patient with me." He knew Keith was far from a patient person, and it had probably taken all he had to not to push Shiro into talking.

Keith leaned over and kissed him. "I'd wait forever if it meant seeing you happy"

Shiro smiled wider, bashfully looking down at his plate, and then back up at his boyfriend.

"Now eat, your food is getting cold" He said, snapping Shiro out of his haze.

He realized with a start, that Keith's plate was almost empty, save for one pancake, when he had clearly remembered making him six.

He looked down at his own untouched food.

Yes, Keith really was like no demon he'd ever seen.

And he liked it that way.

 

X

 

 

 

Shiro was fairly certain this was a bad idea, as Keith laid down next to him and got comfortable.

"Keith I don't think this is entirely necessary."

Keith scoffed in response. "Oh shut it I just want to meet the densest person in the entire world."

Shiro huffed through his nose. "He's not that bad Keith."

"You're only saying that because you like him."

"Your point?"

Keith rolled his eyes.

"And _you_ tell _me_ not to get distracted on missions." 

"Keith-"

"But there you are falling for the person who got himself _possessed_ by-"

" _Keith_." Shiro said sternly.

Keith glanced over at him, having the decency to show at least a bit of regret in his choice of words.

"I'm sorry, I just... Shiro the kid is probably...."

Shiro wouldn't meet his eyes, and Keith sat up, balanced on one elbow while he put his free hand on his boyfriend's shoulder, mimicking the gesture Shiro himself would have used on Keith if their places were switched.

"I'm sorry okay? I know this is hard for you, but this kid- _Lance_ \- He's already tried to kill himself. Has a history of depression... And this thing we're dealing with? It's going to be a pain to get rid of. Especially sense Lance was dumb enough to leave himself open... It's latched onto him Shiro. We might not be able to..."

Shiro didn't seem to hear him anymore, lost in his own little world as his right fist clenched and unclenched.

He stared into his palm as though the stupid, evil, thing could divulge answers if he just searched long enough in the creases.

He knew what Keith was implying.

Don't get too attached to him.

He might not last forever.

Shiro swallowed hard, and tried to turn his attention back on his boyfriend, but he found it difficult.

"Shiro.... We'll do our best okay? I promise I'll be on my best behavior. I'll do everything I can, just... be prepared for the worst... And remember that no matter what, I'm here for you."

Shiro nodded numbly, and his boyfriend leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, before settling back into bed.

"Now introduce me to the idiot that can't seem to get a clue."

 

X

 

Lance awoke in his bedroom, and stretched, looking around.

It felt like a dream, a bit more hazy than usual, but in clear detail.

Was this a dream?

Lance looked around the room for anything odd as he forced the haze in his mind away, and found the abnormality in the form of a tall muscular man standing by the window, shrouded in darkness.

Shiro?

He went to turn his bedside lamp on, but the light wouldn't flick on no mater how many times he pulled the thin chain.

He felt cold, and he swallowed hard, turning back to were the silhouette of the figure had been, only to find the emptiness, of his own room.

The light was always already on when Shiro was there...

Was this a joke?

The need to laugh overweighed his need to run and he chuckled weakly, into the emptiness.

"Shiro? Come on man, I know I joke about you 'going ghost' or whatever but this is kinda going too far."

No reply came, and despite his desire to pull the covers over his head and never come out, Lance shakily pulled his long legs out from under the sheets, and touched his feet to the freezing cold floor.

He stood up, trembling slightly as he made his way across his room to the window.

He wanted to check where the man-S _hiro-_ he quickly reminded himself. It couldn't have been anyone else. It had to be him. And he just wanted to check why he had been next to the window instead of sitting on the edge of his bed like usual.

Maybe he wanted to show him something?

He tried desperately to convince himself that nothing was wrong.

His shaky breathing and his own soft footsteps were the only sounds he could make out. He needed to look. To see... _something_. There was this urge to check, just to be sure that nothing was wrong.

_Just look outside, satisfy that urge, and go back to bed._

When he got to the window he took a moment to gather himself before daring to look down into the parking lot.

His stomach flipped, and his blood ran cold as he stumbled slightly back, hoping he hadn't been seen by the horror outside his apartment.

He paused, shaking befor, stepping forward once again to be sure what he saw was real.

About thirty shadowy figures stood outside, not a car to be seen.

_They were looking at him._

Or... he felt like they were staring at him. They didn't have eyes, or even faces. They just looked like shadows, despite the street lights above them, and in front of them, lining the parking lot.

He could feel their gaze upon him, burrowing into him...

And then the streetlights started flickering.

His one source of light, diminishing any hope he had of a quick run for his phone, or even a hiding spot, and his breath hitched as he was plunged into complete and total darkness.

 

 

X

 

 

Hunk awoke, breathing heavy, as though he had just had a bad dream.

_Bad dream._

They were the only words his brain could come up with, repeating them like a mantra.

He took a shaky breath, and found himself standing.

He knew Lance hadn't been sleeping well, but he wouldn't mind if Hunk just laid down with him right?

They were basically already having a sleepover.

It wouldn't matter anyway.

And being alone in Lance's apartment creeped him the fuck out.

No offense to Lance's spooky living room.

He would just curl up in the bed and find comfort in being next to his best pal, and thoughts of his supposed bad dream would be gone.

...right?

 

X

 

Lance was scared to move, now in complete darkness, alone in his room.

_He was alone right?_

He was shaking.

He was shaking because he was scared, and it was also freezing, and _god._

What was happening?

He screwed his eyes shut, and took deep calming breaths.

He took careful steps forward and felt around until he was touching his wall, and then he felt along the wall for the door.

 _The door_.

He would lock it, and then look for his phone and call...

He finally found his door, but with a sense of dread, he realized his phone was in the living room.

_Where Hunk was._

He sighed shakily, and he felt somehow relieved, and silly for his fear.

Of course.

Hunk would be there.

Hunk would always be there to run to.

Why was Lance even afraid?

He took a deep breath, and he realized with a start that the light in the parking lot had turned back on, and...

There was a light from inside his room.

He turned around so fast he could have been his own mini tornado, had he kept his momentum up.

He was utterly and completely relieved to find a confused, and worried looking Shiro sitting on his bed, looking at him like he was the weirdest thing in existence.

Lance clutched at his heart and t-shirt alike, plastering himself to his door, and leaning all his weight on it as he came down from his adrenaline high.

He didn't want to wake up and skip out on a Shiro session just because of a bad dream.

It was just Shiro

 _It was just him and shiro now_.

... but as his eyes adjusted to see behind Shiro... in the farthest corner by his bed...

"Lance?"

Shiro's lips had moved as though it was him talking, Lance had seen it clear as day, but it was Hunk's voice that sounded in his room.

"Lance?" And he was suddenly opening his eyes, shooting up in bed, and taking deep gulping breaths.

"Hey buddy, hey it's just me."

Lance calmed down as he looked over to Hunk, wiping sweat from his forehead, and taking a shaky breath.

Hunk reached out and put a steadying hand on his shoulder, settling down in bed next to him, and asking what was wrong.

"Dude..." He said tiredly, after a few seconds of just calming himself down, and focusing on breathing like a normal, 'not scared shitless' person.

Flopping back onto his pillow, he turned his head to look at his worried friend, his eyes wide.

"I just had the weirdest dream _yet_..."

 

 


End file.
